First thanks for visit and likes … This story of a book l will never write is a story in itself … As when l was 16 I thought as l was then and when l was 21 it changesd again and again and all through my life l wanted to write … But my ❤️ wasn’t in it until lm the age l am now … So look at your life as a book in itself … Then you will see its full of the wealth of knowledge and wisdom to come as you turn the pages of what is the past and the present will feature at the age you become … Shared you page with friends l now know … Ian


The big two and two. Woohoo!

Turning 22 is super anticlimactic, isn’t it? You can already vote, drive, there isn’t a club that will restrict you access (if you’re a girl, anyway)… Rent stuff if you want…No milestones here, buddy.

22 is basically the universe’s way of saying, “Congratulations full blown adult, you’re not interesting anymore!”

I’m glad to be 22 though. In the couple of decades I’ve been alive I’ve had so much to be thankful for; more than electrifying relationships, more than the plentiful instances of we-must-have-known-each-other-in-another-life kind of friendships, and finding myself…. I’m more than grateful for that one especially.

It sounds silly, I know. Done and tried. Finding myself. What does that mean, you pretentious hippie you?!
Yes, it’s one of the biggest clichés ever, but for someone like me, someone who’s spent her entire life looking to others to define her, it’s one hell of…

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